Letters to Noodle
by Classicsrule
Summary: During the lonely days of Plastic Beach, 2D would write. Not in a diary, or on a blog, but to his dead best friend. 2Nu friendship fic, but can be seen as romance.


Dear Noodle,

I can't say I have any idea as to why I'm doing this. You're supposed to be dead, right? That's what Murdoc told me- it's part of his agenda to tell me that everyday. I don't know how to channel spirits or ressurect the dead into wicked zombie creatures, so why would I be sending this letter to a dead person?

Uh, well, y'know how when we'd always hang out together, you'd tell me we have this "special connection" or something? Like, something that can't be described with words, something that can't be matched by any other bond, not even that of a father and daughter like you and Russel? Well...I think I see what you mean now, because I can't help but feel that you're still alive, love. I've no fingerprints or anything, but I have this really weird gut feeling that Murdoc is lying, or at least he doesn't know that you're okay. It's a really wonderful feeling, y'know. Gives me loads of hope.

I wish I could say more, but Murdoc is calling. I gotta record a song...

XXX

Dear Noodle,

I don't think I explained the situation I'm in in the last letter, did I?

Plastic Beach is where I am. A horrible, smelly, styrofoam deep sea landfill that Murdoc has the nerve to call paradise. The sand is stuffed with bits of glass and candy wrappers and things I don't want to know about, and everytime I wanna take a stroll on the shore, the shit gets lodged into my feet every five Goddamn seconds! Though to be fair, Murdoc only lets me out of my room when he's drunk enough to believe the jellyfish are edible. I think he wrote a song about that, actually. Pink Stinkfish or something.

I woudn't even be here if I'd just changed my name and dyed my hair. I've always wanted to have kind of dirty blonde hair like Damon Albarn. I bet I could've killed the blonde look. Even Murdoc tells me that there is no better color to describe me than blonde. Huh. I wonder why he agreed so easily?

Now, I know what you're thinking, love. "You have no eyes. Wouldn't folks still recognize you?" Well, it's not like sunglasses couldn't fix that problem, right? Oh, and I also got some awesome vampire teeth that Murdoc gave me as a "welcoming gift." Fangs would be such an awesome diguise for my missing teeth. I'm a little afraid to put them in my mouth, though.

Oh, wow, I can't remember when I've written so much. Hand cramps don't happen to me that often. I'll send another letter tomorrow.

XXX

Dear Noodle,

You ever get the feeling you're being watched? Like, by the most horrifying, god-awful, murderous hell-spawn to ever walk the planet? Or, uh, swim?

I don't even know how he did it, but Murdoc paid a bloody whale to keep an eye on me. If I ever want to leave my room without his permission, the whale will eat me blood! Wait, did I tell you this in the last letter? I can't really remember right now. In fact, did I tell you that the only reason I'm here is because Murdoc gassed me and I ended up waking in this hell hole of a beach with no way out?

I bet this is what this place is. Hell. Murdoc must've done me in at some point, and now I'm forced to sing for a crappy album with shitty collaboraters while being watched by a demon whale, a robot, and Satin himself.

But I'm a lotta levels below Plastic Beach. Does that mean I'm in a place even lower than Hell? It wouldn't surprise me. During the day, it's so hot that all the sweat drains from my body within five minutes. And at night, it's cold enough to freeze your winnebago.

What did I do to deserve this, Noodle? I'd have to have been as bad as Murdoc to go this low in the afterlife. Was it because I accidentally killed your tamagatchi? But I said I was sorry, didn't I? And you forgave me, right?

Is that why I feel like you're not dead? Because I'm already dead with you?

Murdoc said at one point that you were dragged to hell by the demon boy. But if there's one thing I know, it's that you, of all people in the world, deserve only to go to heaven, or some other paradisey plane. And I know that because you're so kind and smart, like no other woman on Earth. You're great at video games, fantastic on the guitar, and you always make me feel special. You don't belong in Hell, love. You shouldn't even be allowed to set foot in there. But I'm sure you'll be fine. You can kick a zombie's ass, so a couple of demons really shouldn't be that different.

And, if you really are in Hell, do you think you can try and find me? I'm sorry if I sound selfish, but I hate it here, and I don't have the balls to get out of this prison, and I'm too scared to find out what it's like to die when I'm already dead.

My head is pounding and my hand is cramping. This letter was getting too long anyway.

XXX

Dear Noodle,

Sorry about the crap I spouted in the last letter. Those were the painkillers talking. My heart is still beating, and I don't moan like a zombie, so I must not be dead. Which means that you really are alive, aren't you? You must be, or I wouldn't be writing right now.

Murdoc's halfway done with an album he calls Plastic Beach, after the landfill. He's the bassist of course, I'm still singing-with the addition of a gun being pointed to my head-a drum machine is being used in place of Russel, and...

Damn it, I'm sorry if you can't read that smudge. There was something in my eye. That's been happening a lot lately, love.

Anyway, the robot is playing guitar. Murdoc made her because he couldn't find you at the crash site, so he collected some of your genes and put them into a metal bitch. He told me she's an exact copy of you.

He lied again. She's nothing like you, Noodle. Her smile is creepy instead of bright. Her eyes are black instead of green. She beats me to oblivion instead of tending to my bruises. She plays guitar to please Murdoc instead of playing it to cleanse the minds of the lost. She's cold to touch instead of warm to hug. She...She's just nothing like you! She's not!

Noodle, please come back...show that cyborg who's boss. Flip her over like you did to Russel!

By the way, how do you bloody DO that?

XXX

Dear Noodle,

Murdoc was having a little bit of trouble writing the second half of the album. He says it's smooth sailing, but I can tell he's pissed from lack of progress. The twitch always gives it away.

It's funny because I barely remember having ideas for a third album when us four were still together. Russ kept saying that Demon Days would possibly be our last because we wouldn't be able to match up to its incredible insight, but I liked to believe that was just the paranoia talking. He was always very off during those times, so why take something like that seriously? Poor guy...

Anyway, music was our passion, and I wanted us to stay together for as long as we possibly could. As crazy as Russ had become, his words didn't leave me for days. Soon that became weeks, and by then I was probably just as paranoid as him. Maybe even more so.

So whenever you and Russel and Murdoc would do whatever it was you guys would do during alone time, I'd sit in my room, lean against the front of my bed and stare in space for hours and hours. Once I did it until the sun came up. Remember that day I kept falling asleep against the microphone? Yeah...

I was trying to focus on what our next album could be like, but my thoughts kept drifting back to our then current album. The deep messages, the brilliant instrumental playing, the read-between-the-lines lyrics...was too good to be true. I started to believe that Russ was right, that this would really be our last album...and that we'd have another disastrous falling out.

Everytime that thought crossed my mind, I would watch a zombie film to just forget everything around me for a while. I didn't want to worry about making music, or a falling out, or never being able to see your face again...And Russel's, of course. Sorry, lost my head. I wish I hadn't chewed the eraser off this pencil.

The closest I got to making a third album was testing a few notes on a guitar. It sounded lovely and mournful, but no matter what I tried, I couldn't get any lyrics to sound right. It was a shame, because I wanted to surprise you and the others with a third album. Right now my head hurts too much to decide if I wanted to do that to prove I was smarter than people thought, or if my desire for music and a band to play it in possessed me like Del did to Russel. Either way, a third album is coming now; it isn't what I had in mind, and I can't summon my passion for music when the only time I want to play is when I feel like it.

XXX

Dear Noodle,

Murdoc's twitch returned with a vengeance. He decided to take it out on me.

I'd be smiling right now if my jaw wasn't dislocated. Out of all the places he didn't pound, it was my hand. Kind of funny, yeah? And don't worry, because I've already taken some pain killers and I felt like writing to you anyway. I'm so bored... and it'd be nice to have someone to talk to. In fact, it'd be even nicer if you responded to these letters.

Now, I'm not trying to force you or anything, but I'm bored, I'm running out of films to watch, the whale is still looking at me through the window, some weird guy is making noises in the engine room, I'm going comatose on pills, and Murdoc hasn't sent the cyborg to give me food in days. I wouldn't mind a little bit of cheering up right now...

Actually, y'know what? If-hang on, I gotta scratch out that word- WHEN you get these letters, don't reply. You can just pack your bags and come and visit. We could watch zombie films together, like we used to. Practice songs together, like we used to. And you could kick Murdoc's ass for pummeling me. If you want, that is. Pretty please?

I can't stand the boredom and loneliness. Let's you and me agree to have a quick chat soon, okay?

XXX

Dear Noodle,

I got it! This time I really got it! And not just once, but like four times!

Have you ever messed with an I-pad? Y'know, those things that are kind of like computers but with a mix of the Nintendo D.s. because you can touch the screen to type and stuff like that? Yeah, it's a bit hard to explain, but the point is, I was using this brand new App that the collaborators of Gorillaz released. Our old friend Damon Albarn helped out with it, so that was enough to convince me it was good.

So I got the App and decided to screw with it a bit. I tested out the sounds of the guitar, the synthetic drums, the bloopy keyboard-they all sounded just like the real thing! I was so blown away by the technology that I started making a bunch of music with it. I don't even know what came over me, but suddenly I was humming all sorts of unique melodies and putting them with the right instruments.

Most of the time they came to me when I was really zoned out. I was just sitting there on my bed, criss crossing my legs and staring in space until nightfall. By then I had some serious cramps and I was starting to get a little tired. My head wouldn't stop nodding forward, and some of my fingers roamed over the buttons on the App in my lap. Soon my head was so low that my face was touching the screen. And then...um, I may have been tripping out on my pills again, but the next thing I knew, there was a guitar on the screen, and there was a hand strumming it. But I didn't freak out or anything, because I had a feeling I was supposed to know who was doing it.

The guitar strumming brought back a whole collage of memories. But none of them were from my own life. Suddenly I felt like I was an onlooker, watching a chain of events unfold like chapters in a never ending story. The story that was unweaving itself in my mind was that of Murdoc. I could see him forming plans with shady beings and writing false checks to questionable businesses. But the weirdest part was that I could see him dragging me to Plastic Beach for the first time, and building the Cyborg copy of you. I couldn't do anything but watch the events play before me, because this was nothing more than a story book that someone else had already written. I was just the reader.

It soon became clear to me that I had to make something of this. The guitar's mournful melody wouldn't stop playing, and I felt no surprise when I saw you playing that guitar. A surge of melancholy and longing overtook me. I wanted to reach out for you, hold you, just do something besides watch you cut your fingers on guitar strings. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I couldn't reach you. The screen of the I-Pad was there for a reason. So I did what I'm best at doing: I sang.

I didn't even know what I was singing at the time. I just tried to match your sad tuning and soon we were in perfect harmony. Eventually I could hear the faint sound of a keyboard, and when I looked down I found that my hands were dancing all over the keys like they were possessed. Again, I didn't know why or what exactly I was playing. All I knew was that the whole song sounded amazing! By the time we finished, I was in tears, and you looked at me with a smile...

Then I woke up and found drool on my I-Pad...and I had a massive hangover. How was that possible when Murdoc doesn't share his alcohol stash? But I guess it doesn't matter. I got the tune for a new song and completed three other songs-in fact, if this trippiness thing keeps happening, I'll have enough music to form a whole album! I'll be able to make a new track for the band after all, love. And when it gets released, I'll let you be the first to listen.

We're heading to all sorts of different places soon. I better take my I-Pad, yeah?

XXX

Dear Noodle,

Are you even getting these letters? You haven't been responding...though that could be because some complete hobo is picking these up instead of you. Well, if you are a hobo, could you do me a favor and send for help? I'm at Point Nemo, Plastic Beach with the longitude being...er...a bunch of numbers mashed together...something like 666? Y'know what, forget it, just look for something called the Middle of Nowhere. I bet you'd get somewhere that way.

If you can't send for help, then for the love of God, send a pizza! Alcohol! Anything! I'm so BORED!

XXX

Dear Noodle,

Please do me a favor and ignore that last letter. Muds drugged me the night before when I wouldn't stop complaining about my creaky bed.

I've been doing that a lot lately-falling asleep thanks to drugs. It's almost impossible for me to sleep with the Goddamn whale keeping his bulging eye on me. Murdoc says the sound of my whimpering and screaming prevent him from getting beauty sleep, so he takes desperate measures and gasses me, stabs me with a needle, or drugs my drink. Anything to get me to shut up, really.

I don't think he has a right to do that anyway. A thousand years of beauty sleep wouldn't fix his ugly mug.

Not really sure what else to...oh, what am I talking about? I almost forgot to tell you the big news!

Well, actually, it's a mix of good and bad. I, well, sorry that I couldn't keep the promise I made a few letters ago. Since you're still not here, I wasn't able to let you be the first to listen to my new album. Murdoc found my tracks and gave it a play. He seemed very impressed by them. So impressed that he took credit for my work...again.

But I'm not as angry as I was a few days ago. Murdoc knows that I wrote the album without his permission, but he didn't even hit me for it. Instead he decided that it was another best seller, and that the whole world should listen to the brilliant songs that he recorded on his own with a simple I-Pad.

Because, y'know, his voice totally sounds like mine, right?

See where I'm going with this? Even if he takes credit for this, our crazy fans are smart enough to give credit where it's due...at least I hope. There's a chance our fans are getting dumber since no one has come to rescue me yet. Or maybe they have, but their brains have been blown out by the Cyborg before they could reach me. Ugh...well, I can't expect way too much from them anymore. The "We hope you don't die cards" they send me are a little sweet, but even I know that the Gift cards they send won't help me here.

Actually, there is this one guy that keeps popping up in my room to borrow things...well, more like steal them, but still. It was a little nice to talk to someone, and he even closed the curtains to block the whale for me(don't ask why I didn't do that, I was too scared). Last time he came in to make butter for...uh...I dunno, I guess the Cyborg was making oily pancakes again. But I don't think butter would help the taste. I prefer melted butterscotch.

The Big Bad Whale is staring at me...I think I should stop here.

XXX

Noodle,

I heard about everything. Murdoc told it all to me in great detail. I know all about Jimmy Manson, Murdoc finding out about your plan, forming a deal with you, his lies about your death, you wanting to leave...

Noodle...Why did you want to leave? You already found out about your past, so it's not like you would've wanted to return to Japan again. And I thought you really loved writing all of those songs and collaborating with those people. Didn't you like opening a path of enlightenment in music to the dying world of entertainment?

Didn't you love us anymore?

I've always cared about you you know. Ever since I saw that tiny little person that jumped out of the fed ex box and unleashed a gig on a les paul, I knew she would be my best friend. Then she grew up into an unbelievably smart, unbelievably beautiful young teen, but I still cared for her, and she still cared for me. Then that girl, my best friend, ended up in an accident that she was unable to escape from, and Russ and I wanted to save her, but she was already gone...there was no body left to hold, no voice left to sing...she dissapeared, as did a piece of our souls.

I know I'm a bloody idiot that wouldn't be able to figure you out even if I spent a lifetime with you, but I could always be sure that you saw all of us, even Murdoc, as a family. Russ, Muds and I only saw ourselves as bandmates, but you somehow had a way of bringing us together as one. Because we all knew that that's what you believed we were: a family.

If you had fame, fortune, and a family that loved you, what was bugging you so much that you felt you had to leave? Do you even know what your "death" caused? Russel was threatening to jump off the building of Kong for days. I ended up in a coma from taking one too many painkillers because the pain and loneliness I felt was too much to deal with.

Were we the cause of it? Did we unknowingly insult you...? Take something from you...?

You loved us...was that all a lie? Did you only see us as a convenience for your music?

That's not true, that just can't be true! Damn it, Noodle, why did you leave?! Why didn't you tell us?!

Was it so hard for you to say goodbye? Give us one little hug? Or even a simple "I'm leaving"?

I...I can't take this anymore...Pirates are shooting at me everyday...the whale is going to eat me...Murdoc is torturing me...I can't look at the Cyborg without feeling grief...and now I know that you don't even care. Whether I live or die doesn't matter to you, does it? Well, you know what? It doesn't matter to me either. Hell can't be any worse than this. Nothing can be. I may not have the guts to end my life, but something will eventually. By now, even I know that there's no escape.

Noodle, if you really are reading this, know that I did love you...not that it ever mattered to you.

And if this is a stranger...please...get rid of me.

I'm so tired...

XXX

Mere days after the last bottled message was thrown into the ocean, a crash resonated through the entirety of Plastic Beach, jostling those unlucky enough to be on top of it, where they were showered by bullets and debris.

The crash in question was actually debateable. It could've been from the aero planes nose diving into the island, or it could've been from the giant black man accidentally elbowing the edge of the beach. For 2D, the crash was coming from the bottom of the island, where a hungry whale was attempting to swallow him whole.

For the first two times the whale did this, 2D was paralyzed with shock and fear, only able to slip on his clown mask in a poor attempt to protect himself. This, big surprise, did little, and the whale only increased his efforts to devour the terrified singer.

On the fourth ram, it succeeded in breaking through the welded wall, and water burst into his room like a raging river conquering its way through rocks. Inches away from becoming a meal, 2D closed his eyes and prayed that he wouldn't feel anything.

And he didn't.

Wondering if he was already dead, 2D reluctantly peaked through his mask, only to close his eyes as quickly as he opened them. He was floating in water, but not water inside the whale's mouth like he saw in Pinnochio. He was still in his room, stuck against the door because of the polluted sea water raging against his body.

Maybe it was because of his fading consciousness, but 2D felt an unnatural wave of calm overtake him. Death by drowning sounded like a very gentle way to die. At least it was compared to how he'd imagine his deaths. Being devoured by a whale, shot by a pirate, or stabbed by Murdoc was so much more frightening than drowning.

The water slowed down until it was gentle flow, and 2D was simply left floating in his room like a dead body. It was almost relaxing to him. He was alone, but far from lonely. He had his fading thoughts and memories playing before him like an overused cassette tape, but he enjoyed watching the images flash before his eyes. He saw Mum hugging him and wishing him luck on his first day of school. He saw Uncle Norm welcoming him with open arms into his keyboard shop. He saw Murdoc reintroducing him as 2D, and he saw when Paula kissed him for the first time. He saw Noodle jumping out of a cardboard box and into his arms, speaking nonsensical gibberish. He saw different concerts, different practice riffs, and different band members doing different things with him. The activities ranged from video games and zombie films with Noodle, arguing and laughing with Murdoc, and getting scolded and listening to various music with Russel.

The last image that imprinted itself in 2D's brain was that of Noodle hugging him before she left to do the El Manana shoot. 2D smiled, forgetting for a moment that he was dying.

He was content.

...

The sound of kicking against a door was too faint for anyone to hear, even for the one doing the kicking. Her heart was pounding in her ears too harshly for her to hear anything else.

Noodle finally succeeded in breaking 2D's door down, inviting water to crash into her face and up her nose. Gurgling a curse, Noodle used her full body strength to enter her friend's room. To her relief, she found him rammed against the wall. To her horror, he was not conscious. Eyes set with determination, she reached for 2D's arm, minding the clown mask flying around the overflowed room.

2D's limp body was easy to pull, and it wasn't too challenging to keep a grip on him while using her legs to swim around. Finding a way out proved to be the challenge. Seconds ago the hallway was soaked with water that reached up to Noodle's knees, now there wasn't a space of air left for her to breathe in. It wasn't like the guitarist to be so reckless, but 2D was her friend, and she couldn't risk losing him again.

She was starting to feel the fuzziness of unconsciousness grab hold of her. Her heart rate sped up in panic when she still found no way out. The doors wouldn't open, and the water prevented her from using the force she needed to break them down. Windows were letting the current in, and Noodle required both her legs and hands to swim out of it. But she couldn't just leave 2D to drown.

Damn it, what was she supposed to do?!

The corners of her vision grew darker, and it was getting more and more tempting to ebb into it. Just when she had lost all hope, a bright light flashed before her. She almost mistook it for the light of heaven. She was only slightly dissapointed when it turned out to be an individual with a fish bowl on its head. She couldn't make it out its face thanks to all the tentacles wrapping themselves around each other inside the bowl, but its curves suggested that it was a female.

She swam like she was an olympic athlete, and with a simple wave of her arms, she created a hole in the hallway, leading into the ocean. Noodle tried to thank it, but all that came out of her mouth were gurgles. Nonetheless, the creature gave her a pat on the head, then dissapeared with another brilliant flash of light. For a moment, Noodle forgot her and 2D's predicament and wondered who the hell it was that just rescued them. Then she made the mistake of taking a breath and sucking up water, then she quickly grasped 2D's shirt and pulled his body out of the hole, kicking with all her might so that she could break to the surface before her lungs exploded.

She took generous gulp of air, pulling 2D's head above the water and blinking the saltwater out of her eyes. Everything was too blurry to make out, like someone splashed beer onto a watercolored picture. But she could see among the violent clashings of orange, red, and brown, the pink of Murdoc's Plastic Beach.

"Hold on, 2D, we're almost there." Of course the singer didn't respond. Noodle didn't know why she'd gotten her hopes up.

She stumbled onto the plastic, scraping her skin on the bits of broken bottles and containers sticking out of the fake sand. She panted like she'd just ran a marathon eight times, and her limbs were heavy with oily water and sticky seaweed. All she wanted to do was close her eyes and never wake up again.

But she still had a task to do. She couldn't rest just yet.

Noodle laid 2D's head in her lap, feeling his neck for a pulse. She felt one, but it was weak, and steadily growing fainter. She realized with a start that he wasn't breathing.

"Suko..." Noodle laid her hands on his chest, pumping as hard as she could against it. When that didn't work, she breathed into his mouth. She watched his chest for inhalation...still nothing.

"No, no, no..." She repeated the process of pushing his chest and breathing into his mouth. Again and again until there were tears trailing down her face. As her desperation rose, she found that she was goading him on despite the fact that he couldn't hear or respond to her pleas.

"Toochi, please wake up! Don't die now! Don't...don't go...please don't leave me..." Tears were trailing down her cheeks and dripping onto his closed eyes.

He twitched.

Noodle's heart soared, hope flaring in her soul weakly. She gave his chest one more powerful shove.

"...Hack! Agh! Ah-hagh!" 2D was coughing and spitting out all the sea water lodged in his lungs, and Noodle resisted the urge to glomp him. He probably didn't even know who she was or what he was doing there.

2D groaned weakly, shielding his eyes from the setting sun with the personal goal to blind him. Or maybe Hell was playing tricks on his mind and making him think that it was the sun when it was really a fireball heading straight for him.

Damn it, he wished that the comforting blackness from earlier was death. It had been much easier to take.

Wait, what was that shadow? Its face was round with pointy ears like a cat. Was that what demons looked like? But the cat face was way too cute for him to be afraid of. Bit by bit, the black dots in his eyes cleared until he saw what exactly was looking down at him. It was a cat...no it wasn't, it was human. But it had a cat's face. No, wait, that was a...mask? Did someone steal his mask? He thought he'd bought a clown mask...He liked the cat mask better. It kinda pretty and...japanese. Was that the proper word for it? It must've been the purple hair that brought it to mind. Someone was probably cosplaying as Noodle...But Noodle didn't wear a white dress like that. Nor were her lips that red and full. She was just a teenager, not a sexy woman. Maybe Murdoc redesigned Cyborg...

"Toochi...can you understand me?"

Holy shit, that voice! It was thickly accented with japanese, and it was light and sweet, just like the real Noodle. Murdoc was getting a lot better with his designs, but that didn't mean he could send the Cyborg to fetch him back from Hell.

"Leave me alone, Cyborg." He mumbled, his muddled brain urging his hand to swat at her. But his hand remained limp.

Noodle flinched, then smiled sadly. Of course he'd think it was Cyborg. He hadn't seen Noodle since El Manana...but she had to keep trying.

"No, Toochi, it's me-Noodaru." Maybe using her familiar pronunciation would snap him out of it. She saw his eyes widen a bit, and it looked like they were starting to clear from a foggy gray to the endless black she missed getting lost in.

"Noodle...? But...that can't be right...you shouldn't be in Hell..." He appeared genuinely confused. Noodle giggled, growing sentimental with nostalgia for his slow mind.

"You're alive, Toochi. And so am I." She touched his cheek, eliciting a shiver from the singer. But ever so slowly, he reached up to grab her hand.

"You're...here...how in the world did you...?" His eyes swam with emotion, and Noodle couldn't tell whether he was sad or happy.

"It is a long story. But before you do anything else..." She turned back to the ocean, placed her finger in her mouth and whistled shrilly.

The parting of the gigantic waves made 2D screech and clamp Noodle's hand with unusual strength. For a moment he feared that it was the whale again, but no, it was a big brown dome shaped head that appeared out of the water. Two white holes that used to house pupils were gouged in the dome's face, and it was grinning with car sized, white teeth.

"Hey, D. Been awhile, huh?" Its voice was booming and earth shaking, rustling the island like a hurricane had hit. 2D's jaw dropped.

"Russ?!" And he thought Noodle had grown up.

"Russel, can you please show 2D what I've kept?" Noodle asked him politely, like the large man was not fifty stories high.

"Sure thing, Baby-Girl." He placed a gigantic hand in the water, possibly checking around his pocket or something. Then he took a fist back out, holding it out to 2D and Noodle.

He opened it, revealing tiny glass bottles with paper tucked safely inside.

"You've improved your spelling, 2D." Noodle smiled at him, tears in her eyes. 2D just stared, his expression blank. Noodle swallowed, unsure if he was willing to forgive her after she'd read his last letter.

"Toochi...I know you are probably seething with anger right now, not that I don't deserve that...but can you find it in yourself to-no, I guess I do not deserve your forgiveness, do I? Well, even if you do not, I just wanted to let you know that I never used you, Russel, or Murdoc for anything. I left during El Manana because I just wanted a break. But I was a stupid teenager at the time and foolishly believed that Murdoc would tell you about my plan after I left and that you and Russel wouldn't panic and would instead respect my decision. I know now that that was a dumb decision I made, and that I should never do something so selfish again. And please believe me when I say that I DO love you, and Russel, and even Murdoc! I always saw you three as my family, and I came all this way to rescue you because I still care about you, and I want us to be a family and make music again! I'm sorry for everything I did, and I was touched by all the heart you put into your letters and-," Her rambling was cut off by a hug from 2D.

He was sniffling and crying on her shoulder, wiping some bugers and tears onto her pretty white dress. But she didn't care. He still loved her, and he was alive before her. She was alive too. They were all alive, and they were back together just as fate intended them to be. When 2D finally calmed down, he just stared into Noodle's eyes, still keeping a firm grip on her shoulders, and smiling warmly.

"That's all I needed to hear, love."

XXX

Remember in my last fic where I said the story would be up in about two weeks? Surprise!

Ahem, anyway, if any of you wonder why 2D would sometimes sound really smart in his letters, or why his spelling is good...in Rise of the Ogre, his diary entries were spelled correctly. One plot point solved. Also, there were a lot of times in said book where 2D would say some very smart, very deep things...then immediately revert back to his adorably stupid self. Plus, 2D seemed to gain some wit during phase three, as he kept trying to escape the beach, forming more creative ways to break free each time. That and, in interviews, he would coldly insult Murdoc with very clever, very funny jokes. Course Murdoc would beat the crap out of him seconds later, but I bet that 2D thought it was worth it.

Okay, hope you enjoyed, and I'll see you in the fanfiction archive later on.


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